I AM COLOSSALLY FUCKED OFF, PARTLY AT MY OWN IDIOCY
Go on, have a laugh at my expense. _{I know my flatmates will}

I have just spent six fruitless hours at Gatwick Airport. After getting there in good time and everything, I got through security, killed time in the departure lounge and then got right up to the departure gate before the nice man looked at my boarding pass and pointed out that I wasn't due to fly until tomorrow.

I know, I know, I should have spotted it. But you would have thought the guy who checked my boarding pass at security might have spotted something. Nevertheless, I had to return to the departure lounge and wait to be escorted out through security by a member of staff, so said the woman at the information desk. Who neglected to tell her colleague this when she went away for an hour or so. After 45 minutes, I approached her colleague, who said
"Oh, she didn't tell me about that...I did just escort a group of people back out before I arrived here...she'll be back very shortly so if nothing's happened we'll chase it up then."

After the elapsed time spent sitting on my arse waiting has reached two hours, I notice the woman has come back, so I join the queue for the information desk. I'm pleased to see that her expression contains a combination of recognition, surprise and guilt when it becomes apparent I've basically been forgotten about. She leads me out through a shortcut to Arrivals, where she explains my situation to the woman who checks my passport and laughs uproariously. Normally I've a good, self-deprecating sense of humour, but having been left to sit on my arse for two hours I don't really find it that funny.

Once out, I head for the EasyJet information desk where there's already a queue of confused or irate customers on account of a delayed flight to Lisbon. The woman at the desk looks at my boarding pass and checks the information she has: she's pretty sure I'm booked to fly tomorrow, whilst I'm pretty sure I was booked to fly today. On the plus side, she confirms that I am indeed expected on tomorrow's flight, and gives me a piece of paper which will allow me to collect a fresh boarding card tomorrow.

I travel home, still wondering whether I or EasyJet have fucked up. My computer's fucking around a bit, but sorts itself out eventually. I open my inbox and find the email confirming my booking. I am indeed flying on the fucking 10th. Not the fucking 9th. What a waste of six fucking hours. What a fucking idiot I have been.

--hangs head in shame*--

On the plus side, I am at least going on holiday tomorrow.

*_gin
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:38, 8 replies, latest was 16 years ago)

skills

( SteveFrench Cardio is for homo's. do you even lift bro?, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:40, Reply)

that is almost
but not quite, as stupid as me
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:41, Reply)

It was terrifically stupid
And for the purposes of detailed, scientific comparison, you're going to have to tell me what you did that was more stupid.
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:54, Reply)

the terrorist suitcase story
sums it up sadly
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:19, Reply)

Gatwick are cunts
We missed our flight for the honeymoon thanks to massive security queues. They were complete dicks about it and blamed us. At one point we'd spent 1/3 of our married lives in gatwick.

Mind you, 1/6 of my married life was spent divorcing the arsehole
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:41, Reply)

I have nothing but good things to say about Gatwick
When I went to Basel in December I went to the wrong terminal (utter idiot I know), and had about ten minutes 'til my flight. Two security bods took me in their special little car and I got on the plane just in the nick of time. I then watched Fulham grab an amazing 3-2 victory in Switzerland and had an ace time. The end.
(Barry from Eastenders is, despite the words written above, not a woman, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:45, Reply)

Check your return date.
You don't want to be coming home a day late.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:44, Reply)

That's not a problem
I'm coming back via a different modus operandi, which should hopefully prevent me making the same fuck-up twice in one holiday.
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:46, Reply)

On the plus side.
You'll know exactly where you need to go tomorrow.

What's your destination?
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:48, Reply)

That too.
And Toulouse.

_{One could say that at least now I've got nothing Toulouse...}
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:51, Reply)

Not TOO much gin
or you may actually miss your flight. Still, like you say - at least you're going on holiday tomorrow. Better to turn up early (although a whole 24 hours is perhaps a touch early even for the hardiest OCD inflicted traveller) than too late and miss it.
Did you get a new house sorted out btw?
(berk, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:46, Reply)

Indeed I did
That Friday afternoon, I toddled off to the Great British Beer Festival - top afternoon it was too - where I was actually quite put out after the woman in Streatham Hill phoned me back finally to say that they were sorry, and they really would have liked to take me on, but their old housemate had asked to move back in the evening before.

Fortunately, a friend of mine, who I'd been talking to just before this phone call interrupted us, asked what that was about and then pointed out that he would be moving to Oxford in September and was therefore looking to rent out the rooms in the house he owned in Battersea.

So I went over the following morning to see it and IT WAS GOOD. I also don't know who else is going to be renting the other rooms yet, but he's asked me to look out for people, so I should have some sort of veto over who else lives there. And I will have a view of Battersea Power Station when I walk out of my front door.

_{EDIT: I really am in rambling mode tonight, aren't I? Sorry, it's been a long week...}
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:50, Reply)

Hurrah!
Excellent news. I'm glad you got it sorted before you went away. Hope you have a good time in...wherever it is you're going (France? I may have made that up...)
(berk, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:56, Reply)

'tis indeed France
Assuming you didn't look at my reply just above...how did you know? (Otherwise, good observation or a very good guess.)

And yes, my head feels noticeably lighter since I got the house sorted out. (Definitely not on account of the gin)
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:18, Reply)

I'm stalking you
...no, not really. I think you mentioned it the other day when we were talking about spiders and giant scary bugs landing on you. I think that's it, anyway. If it's not, I'm either developing ESP or you should be vaguely worried...
(berk, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:23, Reply)

Oh dear, that's rather awful.
My only airport-related embarrassment (save the MASSIVE SEARCH I get every time I travel anywhere) concerns a visit I paid to the United States. They nearly didn't let me leave England as I had 'a lady's passport, sir'. It wasn't. It was the photo of me as a long-haired hippie of 17 that confused the man.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:47, Reply)

But surely you still had the long, flappy locks when they made this mistake?
Or were you still unbearded at 17?
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:52, Reply)

I couldn't grow a beard until I was 30.
I still can't grow sideburns.

The only reason I don't look as haggard as I deserve to these days, is because I was so fresh-faced to start with.
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:01, Reply)

I can't grow a beard.
When I try it looks like I've pritt-sticked pubes to my face.
(Barry from Eastenders is, despite the words written above, not a woman, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:10, Reply)

and yet I just had to
pluck out a hair with a pair of pliers
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:15, Reply)

I had no idea you were such a sadist.

(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:17, Reply)

it's a hobby

( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:17, Reply)

Why pliers, though?
Not very ladylike, surely? Unless it was putting up a great deal of resistance...?
(berk, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:24, Reply)

I'm more likely to find
pliers in my house than tweezers

plus, it sounded funnier
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:26, Reply)

I get searched every single time
electronic scan, body-search, and generally a bag search. And everytime my dad waltzs straight through, generally ushered down the fast-track.

How can I look more like a terrorist than my father?
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:14, Reply)

It's your boobs
they're either full of explosives or people just want to cop a feel.
(berk, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:17, Reply)

or it could be a result
of my past terrorist suitcase :( which was all my own fault
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:17, Reply)

did it have a balaclava?

( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:19, Reply)

worse
I'm sure I've told the story before, but it bears retelling as a warning against mongs like me

I packed in a horrific hurry, just hand luggage. Chucked everything in. When I went through security, my bag beeped, and they removed an eight inch heavy duty set of scissors, a dinner knife, three bottles of hair shine/shampoo etc, and just looked at me in silent disbelief.

They told me they'd have to dust for drugs, so they dusted my bag/laptop etc, and the first outside zip they opened, a book entitled 'Socialist History' fell out
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:22, Reply)

nice work, there :)

( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:23, Reply)

I turned into a female Hugh Grant
on the spot :(
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:25, Reply)

Your suitcase had a past life as a terrorist?
...what?
(berk, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:20, Reply)

Your suitcase
Wasn't shaped like a Little Boy, was it*?

*_{Not a paedo joke}
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:23, Reply)

I swear my father's been mistaken for an Arab terrorist
He looks a bit like a more Mediterranean version of Robert Winston - i.e., thick dark hair and moustache, but less curly and with a darker complexion. I do remember a family holiday back in 2001 or 2002 when the customs at Dover pulled us over to check our car - and I'd swear they never checked outbound family cars while the World Trade Centre was still standing.
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:21, Reply)

ouch ... that burns.
However, it's not quite as stupid as some associates of mine who waited, forlornly staring at the terminal entrance, for another of their friends, so they could all get checked in together.

Waited, while the boarding and gate-soon-to-close calls for that flight go out.

And continued to wait. Right through the gate closing and the flight taking off.

The friend? He'd gone straight in, they'd missed him, he'd checked in like any normal fellow, and managed to catch his flight, through not being a doughnut.

At least you still have a flight to catch ... !
(BrianHequator was stretching owls, on, or around, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 17:48, Reply)

I was watching that show based around EasyJet the other day and realised that almost everyone on that show is a compete and utter prick.
From larger louts to attention seeking love sick twats, the only person who I felt looked good on that show was the bird who was in the papers who got cancer, and even then I didn't like her exploitation, but it ovbously paid for private care which is why I presume she did it (along with the stuff it did for breast cancer awareness).

Anyway, what you did, to get through to the departure's lounge, was a massive breach in security, esspecially if they took your bags. Someone could have really fucked up someone's shit on that.
( G/PP 💩💩💩💩💩&#128, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:08, Reply)

This is what surprised me most of all
Admittedly I checked in online, but the guy at security scanned my boarding pass - surely he'd have spotted something awry, like me being 26 hours early for the flight? Of course, I only had hand luggage with me - presumably if I'd had hold baggage with me, somebody would have said something much earlier (and saved me waiting for two hours to be let out of the departure lounge).
(LongJohnBaldry, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:16, Reply)

I was under the impression that you couldn't get into the lounge over something like 4 hours before the flight, maybe even less on short-hull.
And if I was designing the machines, I wouldn't let them spit out the ticket in something like over 18 hours (therefore accounting for people who are at a local hotel, and even then, maybe intrigrate the hotel booking into the system).
( G/PP 💩💩💩💩💩&#128, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:20, Reply)

I once got a flight with Ryan Air to Larnica from Gatwick, over the phone because it was an emergancy-flight and their website was down.
I turn up at the desk and get my ticket and the return is 'pathos', now that's the differance between Heathrow and Newcastle; quite a fuck up. I get there and they say "Don't worry about it, you can change the ticket when you arrive at Larnica". So I get there, and yes, I can change the ticket, for [something like] £140 on a £80 flight, it would have been cheaper for me to pick a new flight with the same airline, than to change the booking.

In the end I told them to go fuck themselves, stayed in cyprus for an extra couple of weeks (at the time, I was still enjoying my trips there), and flew home with BA.

My cousin insists on using Monarch from Luton now, the differance is like £20, but BA saves more than that in the taxi there, and the seats are so much better, and includes food and drink. She's one of these people who has to have it her way though.
( G/PP 💩💩💩💩💩&#128, Mon 9 Aug 2010, 18:18, Reply)